


~and getting caught in the rain

by Lookingkindofdumb



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Gamora despairs of them all, Gen, Peter as the light fingered waiter, Rocket as the chef with a hair trigger temper, So...this is a restaurant AU, she has to work with the biggest idiots in the galaxy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lookingkindofdumb/pseuds/Lookingkindofdumb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the Guardians of the Galaxy is a restaurant ran by the five weirdest restaurant owners in the galaxy.</p><p>Gamora just hopes for a peaceful day where the head chef (Rocket) doesn’t go on a rampage, when their bar tender (Drax) doesn’t take offense at drunken ramblings he takes far too literally, where their waiter (Groot) doesn’t accidently spill a whole load of drinks over their customers, that the Head Waiter (Peter) doesn’t pocket anything shiny. But most importantly, she hopes her father, Thanos, stays the fuck away. He’s embarrassing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	~and getting caught in the rain

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt:
> 
>  
> 
> _I'm listening to the audiobook of Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain, and now I really want a restaurant AU._  
>  I don't care if it's a human!AU or a restaurant in space.  
> Romance not required, but author!anon can include pairings if they want to.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> And Earth colloquialisms because.

#

 

“Alright team! Everyone psyched for the day?” Peter asks, beaming brightly.

“Ugh.” Gamora sighs in disgust.

“How are you that chirpy?” Rocket growls out, the effect rather ruined by a face cracking yawn. “It’s Galaxday, the single stupidest day in the entire moon turning period.” He continues to grump.

“Chirpy? I do not see a bird like appendage upon Peter nor is he making the incessant noise birds use in the suns early hours.” Drax says with only mild confusion. He is used to not getting the metaphors that litter Rockets speech.

Gamora sighs. It is going to be one of _those_ days.

And Rocket is right; Galaxday is the worst day of the cyclical eight day periods that this planet uses to measure its time. It is the one day where most people do not work and so the absolute busiest time for them at the restaurant.

The only one of them who actually likes this day is Peter. Because Peter is weird.

And possibly Groot but then again, Groot enjoys the rain season. _No one_ on Amaranthine likes the rain season.

“Come on guys, it’s not that bad.” Peter continues swiftly when he sees Rocket’s hands twitch for his blaster. 

(They don’t actually know what the gun at Rocket’s hip is and it is doubtful that even _Rocket_ knows the answer considering the amount of modifications he has made it suffer.)

“And besides, there’s that big demonstration thing happening at Ronan’s so there probably won’t be so much of a crush today.” Peter says with deplorable optimism. 

Sometimes Gamora wonders why she hasn’t sliced Peter up like fruit and served him to their less discerning patrons yet.

Rocket goes off on another rant about Ronan who owns the restaurant that they are always in direct competition with. He still hasn’t gotten over the time when Ronan tried to woo Groot over into working for him despite the fact that this was a year ago. And that Groot would never have left them.

“-I’ll show that pompous friend stealing a-hole.” Rocket finally tapers off, throwing on an apron and disappearing into the kitchen threatening to create new dishes that will explode on the tongue.

Gamora hopes he doesn’t mean that literally but at least he isn’t taking apart the unit converter. Again.

“I am Groot.” Groot says, following Rocket.

“I _know_ you wouldn’t have left, that isn’t the point.” 

Peter is grinning smugly to himself so Gamora punches him in the arm on principal.

“Ow! What did I do?” He asks, all wounded eyes as he rubs his shoulder. 

“That was for manipulation.” She says crisply.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Peter says looking bewildered.

And it would be very easy to be taken in by the act. If she didn’t know it was an act of course. But Peter uses words like he breathes, easily and often without thought.

“You know the food critic is appearing sometime today, you also know Rocket creates some of his best dishes when riled up, which is why you mentioned Ronan’s ‘big do’.” 

Peter doesn’t even try to protest his innocence again although he does look a little sulky that she figured him out.

Gamora spies Drax methodically taking the chairs off the tables and back where they belong and gives thanks for the fact that despite the fact she works with lunatics that at least they know how to do their jobs.

A crash comes from the kitchens, loud enough to make the windows rattle.

Gamora closes her eyes and regulates her breathing.

When she feels slightly less likely to stab the next person she encounters she opens her eyes and makes her way to the back room which she claimed when they first started the restaurant to do the book keeping.

There is less than three chimes before they open the doors to the public. That is enough time for her to sort out one of the complex and superfluous tax forms that must be sent off before next Galaxday.

 

#

 

The chime rings out and Gamora scowls up from her cramped scrawl.

“Woo! Opening time!” An excited yell filters back to her before a thud follows.

“Don’t use those damn boot thrusters inside!” Gamora yells.

“I didn’t!” Peter yells back. She doesn’t bother responding to this lie with anything other than an eye roll.

A short while later, while she is bombarded with orders, requests and bills she remembers why she ever thought that opening a restaurant with four of the biggest idiots in the Galaxy was a good idea.

Groot uses his height and extension capabilities to send plates of food to the tables at the back while not moving from his station, which is right by the door to the kitchens just in case Rocket decides to take offense at someone. (This occurs at least twice a day.)

Drax is mixing cocktails at the bar area, using fluorescent alcoholic beverages that Gamora has never heard of before to make combinations that are oddly mesmerising while packing a punch. (Much like Drax himself.)

Peter, using his boot thrusters, hops all over the restaurant, chattering with the customers and charming every single one of them with his Terran magic as he delivers plates of food that smells like Rocket has once again outdone himself.

She smiles her practiced smile as a new family enters the restaurant and leads them to a free table, one of the last it is steadily getting to maximum capacity in there, handing out menus and asking if there are any special requirements they need to be aware of to make the dining experience comfortable.

A sudden yell of outrage cuts through the chatter of the lunch crowd. Gamora glances over biting back a sigh.

“I am Groot.” Groot says, all big liquid eyes and innocence.

The person roars and continues to shout about the stupidity of the wait staff. The front of the (official looking) shirt is drenched, as are the maroon pants and Gamora can see the upturned tray on the ground.

Evidently Groot has dropped the tray and the contents have poured themselves all over the patron.

This is also a rather frequent occurrence.

Peter hurries over and smoothes it all over, using a silver tongue to calm the customer who appears disgruntled but far less enraged.

Gamora watches for a second, she narrows her eyes on Peter’s hands as he gets the customer a complimentary drink to replace the one dripping onto the floor.

She smiles at the family, now settled into their seats.

“Anything else?” She asks, letting her finger hover over the send icon on her memo screen.

“That’s it, I think.” The mother smiles.

The moment she has a free second (she doesn’t but she makes time) she grabs Peter by his jacket and corners him in the kitchen.

“Stop pick pocketing our customers.” She hisses. She can see him cycle through a list of possible ways to take the accusations before he decides not to act like he has no idea what she is talking about.

“I only pick pocket the rude ones.” Peter grumbles.

Rocket snickers.

Peter does not need the encouragement so Gamora glowers at them both.

“Do not do so again. The restaurant will get a bad reputation if you get arrested.” 

“It’s not like I’m gonna get caught.” 

She narrows her eyes at him.

“ _I_ saw you.” She points out.

“Fine, no stealing.” Peter sighs, looking a little chastised. She doesn’t hold her breath that this will last but he probably won’t steal anything for the rest of the day. Hopefully.

Damn, Peter is infecting her with his obnoxious optimism. 

A loud crash comes from in the restaurant and the three of them dash out to see what has caused the commotion this time.

“What you have suggested is physically and anatomically impossible but I can assist your body in forming the correct shapes should you desire.” Drax booms out, holding a customer in the air by their throat.

“Drax, drop him.” Gamora orders. For once Drax obeys taking her literally and letting the customer drop down onto the floor with a painful sounding thump.

“I am Groot.” Groot informs them.

“So what if he is drunk?” Rocket asks. “He propositioned Drax and from the sounds of it not in a particularly nice manner, Drax can deal with it how he likes.”

“That was a sexual proposition?” Drax asks sounding befuddled. “Well, should this one want to pursue their interest then I would not be averse to meeting them for a battle to test strength in the traditional way of my people.”

Peter swallows back a laugh and sounds like he is choking. Rocket has lost interest and returned to his kitchen.

The customer in questions looks vaguely fearful through his drunken haze and doesn’t object when a couple of his friends drag him out of the restaurant.

Drax goes back to making cocktails with a philosophical shrug.

Gamora smiles brightly as a new customer enters.

Two tray dropping incidents, three customers that Rocket decided to sort out with his guns and three more incidents with Drax taking things entirely too literally and Gamora is ready to flop down in a puddle and call herself done for the day.

Peter is being quiet. Suspiciously quiet and innocent. Which means he is up to something. Gamora would be worried but she is too harried to bother.

Thankfully the fifteenth chime rings out and she breathes a sigh of relief, herding out the last few stragglers before putting up the ‘closed’ sign.

They have a breather now, before they open for dinner.

“If I get one more a-hole joking about fur in their food I’m gonna-” Rocket makes a detailed gesture with his gun that needs no verbalising. 

“I am Groot.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They sit at a table and pick at the food Rocket set aside for them.

Peter falls asleep into his plate, the headphones for his strange Terra music dangling off his hair. 

Gamora kick starts a cleaner bot to clear the floor.

“Fighting foes was not as weary a task as this.” Drax says glumly.

“I am Groot.” Groot agrees.

Rocket promptly dismantles the unit converter.

Peter snores.

 

#

 

The dinner rush is both better and worse.

It is better because it is less of a rush, people more inclined to slow down.

It is worse because each person stays longer.

Gamora sighs when she sees the next customer approach the door.

“It’s a free Galaxy, missy.” Yondu says with a sharp grin when he sees her grimace.

“And there are six other restaurants closer to your house than here.” Gamora says, rolling her eyes as she leads him to the booth he usually occupies when he decides to mess with Peter and come to their restaurant.

“The food here suits me best.” Yondu says, which is a damn lie. Yondu prefers the restaurants with mouth searing poisons in each dish and a shadier type of cliental.

“Ah, not today.” Yondu says when she leads him to his booth. “I’m meeting a few others, we’ll need a bigger table.”

“How many?” She asks reluctantly.

“About five of us, give or take a few.” Yondu grins, teeth bared.

She leads him to their biggest table and is thankful that it is in the middle of the restaurant so Yondu can’t cause too much trouble.

She gets a little distracted and forgets to keep half an eye on Yondu when Nebula enters the restaurant with a sour expression and two others. She dispatches Peter to deal with Nebula’s table, as a distraction from Yondu’s presence but mainly because Gamora isn’t sure she could get Nebula’s orders down without them descending into a brawl. 

Again.

Groot illuminates the restaurant with his light spores when the sun blinks out of view suddenly as one of Amaranthine’s moons moves in front of it.

It never fails to make Gamora catch her breath. She isn’t the only one.

Which is why she misses the moment when one of the customers at Yondu’s table grabs Peter in a choke hold and puts a blaster against his head.

“Aw, c’mon.” Peter whines.

“Hand me the orb or I will kill the brat. I have seen how he is your weak link.” The woman holding Peter hostage demands.

Peter pulls an indignant face.

“Kill the brat.” Yondu shrugs, eyes not leaving her or the gun against Peter’s head as he pockets the orb.

“I will meet your bluff.” The woman says, cocking the gun. Yondu narrows his eyes, and in an absent gesture, almost like accident, he pushes the edge of coat out of the way of the arrow tucked into his belt.

Peter shoots a glare at Yondu before slamming something into the woman’s hip that sends her shaking and arching to the floor. Some kind of electrical pulse then.

Peter jumps out of the way of one of the woman’s accomplices and tackles another, using his rocket boots to slam then against the wall while shooting the other.

Yondu whistles gently and his arrow, almost gently, hovers in front of the woman who is shakily getting to her feet.

“You were sayin’?” Yondu asks, sounding quite pleased by how the evening turned out.

The woman spits but leaves the restaurant when Drax cracks his knuckles.

Gamora tucks away her weapons, Groot goes back to serving people instead of waiting ready to join in the fray, Drax smiles widely causing more than a few customers to swallow and avoid his eyes, Rocket retreats back to the kitchen looking disappointed he didn’t get some of the action and Peter starts cursing out Yondu for bringing his type of business to the restaurant.

“They insisted boy, and I didn’t want to lose the deal.” Yondu snaps. Peter gets right in his face.

“It seems like you didn’t care all that much that the deal fell through!” 

“I was just pleased to see you ain’t gone all soft in this cushy environment. Now, let me enjoy my meal in peace.” Yondu shooed him away.

Peter went with a scowl.

Gradually conversation around the restaurant picked up. Alterations were not uncommon in their restaurant.

They get relative peace for at least three more chimes. Gamora counts that as a win.

“What did you just call me?” Rocket yells, pulling out a gun almost bigger than him but not nearly as deadly.

The restaurant clears pretty quickly after that. 

(And really, why have people not realised that angering the chef is not a good idea? Especially a chef with a predilection for guns and various weaponry he can tweak.)

She caught Peter in the kitchens after they closed up, tossing about an orb.

She snatched it from mid air and examines it.

“I thought you promised no pick pocketing.” She says without censure.

“Yeah, but it was Yondu.” Peter shrugs. Gamora considers that excuse for a moment before accepting it.

“Don’t steal my weapons.” Rocket orders, snatching back the electric blaster Peter had tucked into his belt.

“I was testing it.” Peter tries. Rocket raises it threateningly. “Alright! Alright, no borrowing Rockets weapons even though he has more than he can use.” Peter acquiesces grudgingly.

 

 

Outtake:

 

The rain alert sounds and everyone with a lick of sense hurries inside the closest shelter. 

Which explains why Rocket grins, sharp teeth on display, and dashes out closely followed by Groot.

“Woo!” Peter exclaims dashing out after them.

Gamora rolls her eyes.

The clouds rumble and shake before letting lose. Rain sprinkles down everywhere, covering the ground in a light cover of purple and staining the buildings which are already a dusty purple colour from both the rock and previous rainfall.

Groot grins up at the sky and seems to absorb the rain, glowing purple.

The reason for the alert makes its presence known.

Solid balls of ice fall from the sky, about the half the size of Gamora’s hand.

Rocket laughs manically and starts blasting the ice blocks whenever they threaten to hit him.

Groot catches some of them and eats them, pretending he isn’t whenever Rocket looks over.

Peter whoops again and uses a stick to bat the blocks of ice over in Rocket’s direction, his face and clothes steadily staining purple.

“If you like Pina Coladas and gettin’ caught in the rain~” Peter sings, leaping about swinging the familiar looking stick.

“I have turned off the cookers.” Drax announces. 

“Thanks. We don’t need a repeat of last time.” Gamora says. Whenever it rains Rocket rushes out without care that food is still being cooked and that fires are a thing that happens.

“That is why I turned the cookers off.” Drax says dryly. At least, Gamora _thinks_ he says it dryly.

“Did you let Quill use one of your weapons like that?” Drax asks with a frown. He hates the mistreatment of good weapons.

“What?” Then it suddenly clicks why the stick Peter is holding looks so familiar. “You rotten thief!” She yells, charging out and pulling out her one remaining sword.

Peter laughs and jumps out of the way of an ice ball she has batted in his direction.

Drax shrugs, steps outside, catches an ice ball in his hand and joins in the fray.

**Author's Note:**

> Groot totally spills the drinks on purpose whenever customers are being rude about his friends or the restaurant.


End file.
